
Classics 3ir_t_^ 
CofiyrightN'JI&i. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



CYPRESS AND ROSE 




CHASING BUT T V. R F L I E S 

( Poem Pii^t ^S ) 



Cypress and Rose 



By ./ 

Marion Frances Watt 



The Ivy Press 

Seattle, U. S. A. 

1902 



CLAJW a^ XXO No, 

A^ y i W 1. 
COPY a. 






Copyrighted igo2 by 
Marion Frances Watt 




Arrar.f^cd u/ij Printed by The Ivy Press at the Sign of tlie Ii'\ 
Leaf in Seattle, Wash., U.S.A. 



T O 

My Husband 
Alexander Watt 



THE ILLUSTRATIONS 



Chasing Butterflies 

The Goal is But a Little Wav 



Frontispiece 
opp. 127 




THE CONTENTS 



Sappho 






17 


Autumn Song 






19 


Cards 






21 


Song . 






23 


When We Grow Old 






24 


The Rose of Paradise 






27 


Suspense 






29 


To My Ladye Faire 






30 


Chasing Butterflies 






32 



Would He Return 

Remembrance 

To the Last Fly 

The Boat That Never Went to Sea 

The Death of Summer 

Serenade 

The Last Good Bye 

Love 

At Last 

Pond Lilies 

The Cup of Hate 

November Rain 

The Nun 

For Saynte Valentyne, His Daye 

The Honeymoon 

Serenade 

Forgetfulness 

The Song of the Shell 

I 

II 
The Quest 
Song . 



Songs of the Seasons 










My Lady 








89 


1 Knew 








91 


Farewell 








93 


The End 








95 


You and I 








97 


Unwritten 








101 


Heloise 








107 


O Doubting Heart 








1 1 1 


Love's League 








115 


December 








121 


The Goal is But a Little Way 






125 


Don Pancho 








129 




CYPRESS AND ROSE 



Cypress and Rose 



SAPPHO 

\X7'HEN in the red vintage of the western sky 
Dissolves the pearl of light away, 
In a far-off ruby-gold sea, 
When the dim wings of Twilight are rustling by. 
And tender penciled fancies play, 
I think of thee, I think of thee. 

When parted the purple curtains of the night, 
And on her couch of dewy space 
The earth has loosed her robes of pearl ; 

When the gray moon is lost in another's light. 
And dreams in noiseless resting place, 
Thou art my world, thou art my world. 

J7 



Cypress and Rose 

When the never-ceasing tide of passing feet 
Streams thro' the crowded market-way, 
And pale Care slowly beckons me ; 

When throbbing veins of the city wildly beat, 
And Tumult drives the car of day, 
■I think of thee, I thing of thee. 

When roses droop, love-languid, 'neath breath of 
noon. 
When pulseless is the heavy land, 
And stilled the lightest trill of birds ; 

Across the crescent of liquid azure bloom 
Thy name is traced by unseen hand 
In golden words, in golden words. 

When dream the milk-white blossoms on stilly lake, 

When passion-flowers are gemmed with dew. 

And acacias doze on the lea ; 
When crimson petals no longer keep awake. 

And the jessamine nods adieu, 

I think of thee, I think of thee. 
13 



Cypress and Rose 



AUTUMN SONG 

T T ECTIC flush now doth blush, 

And burn its crimson warning 
On the leaves; 
Grasses sere, spread their bier, 
Where trembling age in mourning 
Silent grieves. 

Evening's chill, damp and still, 

From the elms a robin's lay- 
Sweetly rings ; 

Loving dews, fragrance lose 

As they kiss the pain away 
Autumn brings. 

J9 



Cypress and Rose 

Blue-tinged air doth declare 
The withered crown of summer 

Is decayed ; 
Crickets creak, firesides seek. 
While winter time in slumber 

Is delayed. 

Soft and low, sweet and slow 
An unseen band is chanting 

O'er the past ; 
Night birds call, roses fall, 
And by-gone joys are haunting 

Autumn's blast. 



20 



Cypress and Rose 



CARDS 

TV yTANKIND engages in a life-long game. 

At morn, with lavish hopes, he takes the part 
Dealt out to him, high passioned waits the trump, 
And Destiny as Love doth turn a ''heart." 

Then earth and heaven mingle into one, 

But soon, as is a bird awoke to feed 
Her little ones, necessity demands 

Or poverty declares that "diamonds" lead. 

Past noon : The game is played by sterner hands. 

Success is but a trick that's lost and won. 
He gains the stakes who hits the hardest blows. 

And holds a "club" where once a heart had done. 

2\ 



Cypress and Rose 

At night defeat and gain become as one, 

Where all is dim ; yet, ere the light doth fade, 

Another hand is dealt, and he may hold 

All things he sought, but Death hath turned a "spade." 



22 



Cypress and Rose 



SONG 

1^ jNE evening when the g-limmering land was still. 

When day was dark and but the night was clear, 
Contentment and a strange enchanted peace 
Came o'er me from a spirit standing near. 

As when the earth revolving, yet is still, 

So in that Presence time had ceased to be, 
While thus I plead, ''O, blessed Angel, stay ! 

And dull my soul to all the world but thee. 
Let Love, that masquerades in borrowed robes 

Of Hope, forget this happy heart of mine, 
And let me drift thro' all eternity 

Unconscious of all other power than thine." 

But as I spoke the eastern sky uplit, 

A songbird whistled in a tree above. 
And gravely smiling as he took my hand, 

The spirit softly whispered, "I am Love." 

23 



Cypress and Rose 



WHEN WE GROW OLD 

' I *HERE comes a time when golden-hearted noon 

Will yield to twilight's chill embrace, 
When sighing winds will shed the summer's bloom 
And waft their sweetness into space. 
When frost will lay 
Where once was May, 
And lips all tremulous will say : 
'There comes a time when we grow old." 

From far across the shoreless ocean's breast 

The dying sunlight faintly streams, 
Wliile unseen barks are speeding o'er its crest 
And rosy Hope is lost in dreams. 
For weary hands 
The day hath spanned 
And feebly trace o'er sallow sands, 
"There comes a time when we grow old." 
24 



Cypress and Rose 

There comes a time when on the viewless tide 

Is heard the boding tone of fate ; 
When Galen's band is summoned to our side 
To check the foe within the gate. 
Strict guard they keep, 
Yet in our sleep 
A voice comes whispering o'er the deep : 
'"There comes a time when we grow old." 

Unbroken shades ne'er traveled by the sun, 

Form barriers round a dark domain, 
Where Time's far-reaching stream shall never run 
Or measure death's unbreathing reign. 
Forgetfulness 
Hath come to bless, 
And pallid lips shall ne'er confess, 
''There comes a time when we grow old." 

There comes a time when watchers thro' the night 

In silence wait the coming day, 
When ghostly tapers give their trembling light, 

25 



Cypress and Rose 

And hope and hearts alike decay. 
And then how dark! 
But, oh, the spark 
That onward guides the phantom bark 
Where we shall never more grow old. 



26 



Cypress and Rose 



THE ROSE OF PARADISE 

"DOCKED in the lily gossamer of sleep, 

That swayed betwixt my couch and paradise, 
I dreamed a dream of roses; 
And 'twere as tho' adown the lilac deep, 

Each star was linked with star across the skies, 
In bands of trailing roses. 

Soft echoes floated o'er rose-braided strands. 
That bade me seek the "Rose of Paradise," 
As from star to star I crossed ; 
But ever vain my search thro' silver lands, 
Till in the crescent wake of morning skies 
The phantom red rose was lost. 

Yet by thy side I dream another dream, 
And lo ! the rose I sought in paradise 

27 



Cypress and Rose 

Blooms upon thy rosy lips ! 
And stooping down, despite the willful gleam, 
I cull it, 'spite of thorns within thine eyes — 
Cull it from thy rosy lips. 



28 



Cypress a fid Rose 



SUSPENSE 

/^ HOURS that neither give despair nor joy, 

No smiles to bless or frowns that might destroy, 
Thou fiUest the dulled brain with sense of wrong. 
And weave a vain tale, tedious told and long. 
Thy leaden wings that mimic Hope's fond flight 
Tremblest in shadow-land beyond the sight, 
And soar aloft to mix with Heaven's blue, 
To sink again in grasses lush with dew ; 
But the disdain that paints thy ashen eyes, 
Nor melts beneath the prayer that o'er thee sighs. 
Will fade at last when cruel ghosts pursue, 
Inflicting all those ills which once they knew. 



29 



Cypress and Rose 



30 



TO MY LADYE FAIRE 

r\ LADYE FAIRE ! a hande has traced 

A Pycture for thine eyes, 
Withe tintes & lightes yt make it seeme 
A glympse of Paradyse. 

Noe sunlighte ever half e soe brighte 1 
Noe skies yt seemed as blue ! 

Noe roses ever halfe soe sweete 
As in ys Pycture true ! 

Deare Love ! ye canvass is my Hearte ! 

Ye Paynter's hande is Love ! 
Thy presence is ye sunshine's warmth, 

Thine eyes ye skies above ! 



Cypress a fid Rose 



Thye lipps ye Rose withe honie wett, 
Thye handes ye blossoms pinke ! 

& Hope ye Frame withe Jewells sett 
Yt bidds me thus to thinke ! 

Yett since I cannott sende it Thee, 
As thus I male a Rhyme — 

O bidd me beare it companie 
To be thye Valentyne ! 



31 



Cypress and Rose 



CHASING BUTTERFLIES 

TT WAS another world, 

Nor were we yon and I ; 
It was another life, 

It was some other sky ; 
And these were other eyes. 

Nor were our hearts of clay — 
When we chased the butterflies 

In the Far-away. 

Now Earth and we have changed. 

But still a gaudy prize 
Doth urge the lagging step 

And fire the faded eyes. 
It is the endless race — 

The phantom of the brain — 
If won, too late to learn. 

The butterfly is slain. 



32 



Cypress and Rose 



But ever as we run, 

Our heart doth disbelieve, 
Yet still we may not pause, 

There is no word reprieve. 
"Twas Life in summer's guise, 

Reality in play — 
When we chased the butterflies 

In the Far-away. 



33 



Cypress and Rose 



WOULD HE RETURN? 

"CpORGOTTEN now the heart's hot wounds — • 
His friend might smite him on the cheek, 
And frozen lips would never speak, 
Nor anguish fix itself in sounds. 

If in the skies again were glassed 
The dreams the heart must lose at last, 
And Youth could call from lands long past. 
Would he return? 

Vain tears will never flood those eyes ; 

Loveless Love nor pale-faced Slander 

Draw no lightnings as they wander 

Adown the twilight of his skies. 

If dear ones beckoned thro' the gray 
And Love illumed his bloomless way, 
If tender voices pierced his clay, 
Would he return? 

34 



Cypress and Rose 

He will not hear the north winds rave, 
In summer time the golden bee 
Chants sweeter notes than Misery, 
And bramble roses hide his grave. 

If he recalled the vanished dread, 
And knew how soon his loved are dead — 
That he must seek the self-same bed. 
Would he return — 

Would he return? 



35 



Cypress and Rose 



REMEMBRANCE 

T THINK of thee 

When lily-cradled is the honey-bee, 
When red carnations woo the silver dew 
And waft their spices to the tulip tree. 
When thinkest thou of me? 

I think of thee 
By the purple coast-line that fades away, 
While the shimmering, milky sails speed on 
To kiss the rose lips of another day. 

Where thinkest thou of me? 

I think of thee 

With tear-lit eye and passion-haunted heart. 

Tempestuous longings that are never stilled 

For coming days when we shall never part. 

How thinkest thou of me? 

36 



Cypress and Rose 



TO THE LAST FLY 

17 RAIL relic of the season fled! 

Why dost thou ling^er with us here? 
The moon is pale, the leaves are sere. 
Thy comrades numbered with the dead. 

Thy wanton ways thro' Summer days 
Were such as cannot be redressed. 
For painful mem'ries were impressed 
Throughout the early morning's gray. 

Listless guard of a vanished race ! 
Thy home the whitened window pane — 
The battle-field where hosts were slain 
That knew thee in thy youthful grace ; 

37 



Cypress and Rose 

Deem not I mourn thy fleeting stay, 
Nor waning power of tickling toes : 
Thou little thorn 'midst Summer's rose, 
I hail the night of thy brief day. 



38 



Cypress and Rose 



THE BOAT THAT NEVER WENT TO SEA 

npHE gray gulls gather on its sun-warped side, 
And then go drifting, drifting with the tide ; 
Miles out uncounted sails speck ocean's hue, 
As silver clouds embroider heaven's blue. 

Yet bird and sail that rise and fall, 

Tho' silent, ever seem to call 

The boat that never went to sea. 

A sigh, a sob, as from a heart of flame, 
Breathes up from one exiled from place and name. 
To careless hearts the wind but feigned a wail, 
O 'twas the dews that wet the evening sail. 
Yet to the tides that ebb and rise, 
Its ev'ry fiber moaned replies — 
This boat that never went to sea. 

39 



Cypress and Rose 

Ah ! happier to rot beneath the waves, 
O'ergrown with pale-green weeds of ocean caves ; 
Or. with the waters lasping o'er its deck, 
To lie forgotten on the beach — a wreck. 

Its keel has cleft the em'rald brine. 

Through changing wastes of storm and shine — 

Its sails are set, it went to sea. 

A skeleton footfall has crossed its hold, 
And "never" is written on canvas fold ; 
A phantom hand its rusty anchor cast. 
And a death-head grins on the mold'ring mast. 
Like hearts that love has never blest, 
No morn of joy — no twilight rest, 
The boat that never went to sea. 



40 



THE DEATH OF SUMMER 



THE DEATH OF SUMMER 

'"T^HE lucid inter-space of vivid blue, 

O'ershot with silver arrows from the Moon, 
Was stretched from world to world, a royal dome 
Above the hours, that girt with Paradise 
The meeting of the Summer and the Spring. 
Nor one there lived who heard them plight their troth, 
No priest intoned their bridal vows, yet Time 
From thousand silver tongues called out that they 
Were one. 

The winds, sun-steep'd at noon, and fed 
With honey'd dews at night ; the birds with notes 
As soft as harp that houri strings ; the buds 

43 



Cypress and Rose 

That gathered color day by day, within 
Their silent veins ; the leaves, and grass of green 
That waved an em'rald sea of dreamful ease, 
Were but the fruit of that deep love they knew. 
Yet came a morn so sweet 'twere Heaven born, 
When moan of doves in low-tongued laurel walks, 
And murmVing of innumerable bees, 
Awoke fair Summer's dreams to find the Spring 
Had flown, as tho' some fickle stripling's heart 
Were his, that wearied of the ardor's might 
His love had roused within his golden bride. 
But she whose heart was love and only love, 
Clasped close the children of their marriage-bed, 
And pressed them to her scarlet lips and sighed, 
"Alas, I have thee left ! Thou needest me ! 
Thou wilt forsake me never !" 

So the hours 
Sped onward, pausing but to count the days 
Upon the golden dial of the sun ; 
Till Summer's heavy heart grew light again, 
44 



Cypress a?id Rose 

For all the earth was beautiful with sights 
And sounds of those she loved, and called her own. 
O Happiness ! pale priestess of the mind ! 
Whose dripping- altar is the crimson heart, 
Thy incantations lead us ever on ; 
Or lending us thy secret for an hour, 
Thou ask its quick return, ere yet that hour 
Expires. For scarce had Summer drew a veil 
'Twixt empty days and love's fond retrospect, 
To heal her lonely heart with that sweet love — 
The love she bore her children — ere a change 
Crept across the windy halls of Heaven ; 
The air was filled with gath'ring wings for flight; 
The leaves burned red with inward agony ; 
Harsh blew the winds, letting the rose leaves fall, 
And listless sunrise climbed disastrous noon, 
To early hide his wounds beneath the world. 
Then Summer sought to wile the lang'rous hours. 
And early rose to draw aside the cloth 
Of mist, that as a death-cloth lay upon 
The face of Earth ; and naught for greeting had 

45 



Cypress and Rose 

But wail of pain ; or stooping low above 
Some glazing eye, the yellow lid had fell 
Ere yet her kiss was cold upon their lips. 
Or with her tender arm around some form 
That trembled to its death, she plead with them 
To stay — to leave her not, for they were all 
She had to love. 

But one by one they fled, 
Beyond the haunts of life, and love, and pain ; 
To where a cloud ne'er creeps across the blue. 
Or blows the softest wind, or fiercest storm, 
Or falls the slightest silver star of rain. 
Or mounts the lowest moan of earthly woe, 
To mar the everlasting space of death. 
Then as some wounded thing that seeks to hide 
Its hurt, the Summer crept away alone. 
The stony face of Time were not more set, 
More cold, than hers of speechless agony ; 
The dolphin's death, with whom each pang imbues 
A brighter tint than was the one before, 
46 



Cypress and Rose 

Was not more lovely than the silent heart 
That throb'd and quivered with each color new 
That marked the slow disease and death of hope. 
Ah! then were this the goal of life and love? 
Afar off when the dark, dissolving heart 
Beat thick with passion, or upon the winds 
Were borne the wails of motherhood, no voice 
Sighed thro' the distance and the hues of day 
To hint of loneliness, despair, and night. 
O for a flash from out the gilded hours 
That lay far up the highlands of the past ! 
O for a whisper from lips that were still ! 
Ere yet she too must mingle with the dust, 
The dreadful dust that once was loving hearts ; 
Thus moaned the Summer's heart, when lo ! a voice- 
So sad, so sweet, 'twere as a memory 
That threw its silver shadow in a dream — 
Did call, and wake to momentary flame 
The fading embers of her dying breast ; 
And gazing up the freezing orb beheld 
The lover of her Youth — the vanished Spring, 

47 



Cypress and Rose 

Now russet-bearded — grown to Autumn-time. 
"O was it but a dream ? O then sweet dream 
Be perfect — stay ! and seem to fold me close 
Unto thy heart ! — to kiss me ere I die !" 
As spirits meet, and clasp to say "Farewell" 
Upon some last and fading star — they met ; 
Her cheek of lily hue joined his of brown, 
And whisp'ring "Once more," in his arms she died. 



48 



Cypress and Rose 



SERENADE 

CKIES of the Summer night! 
High o'er my lady's heart, 
Hide, hide thy purple light! 
She dreams ! 
My lady dreams ! 

Breeze of the Summer night ! 

Soft o'er my lady's heart, 
Fold, fold thy pinions light! 
She dreams! 
My lady dreams ! 

Seas of the Summer night ! 
Far from my lady's heart, 
Rock, rock in silver light ! 
She dreams ! 
My lady dreams ! 

49 



Cypress and Rose 



Dreams of the Summer night! 

Breathe of her lover's heart, 

While yet in slumber light — 

She dreams ! 

My lady dreams ! 



50 



Cypress and Rose 



THE LAST GOOD-BYE 

' I * HE birds were still, the skies were those of night, 

Yet from the darkness not a sigh 
Or echo reached us from the farther flight 

To say it was our last good-bye. 

"When next we part 'twill be by morning's light, 
And not this gloom, for farewells try 

The stoutest heart." 'Twas this we said while bright 
The tear-drops lit our last good-bye. 

But now I know that gloom enshadowed sight. 

The silent birds, the stifled cry, 
Tho' black and still, yet whispered to the night — 

Behold ! it is their last good-bye ! 

51 



Cypress and Rose 

Each careless, happy word I said so light 
Doth hurt me now, and I but cry 

"O God ! why could I not have known that night 
That it must be our last good-bye !" 

We would not have it so. tho' it were right ; 

We would have clung and wept, and I 
Would followed weeping, wailing in the night, 

When we had said our last good-bye. 



52 



Cypress and Rose 



LOVE 

T OVING thro' clouds that mask his stern pur- 
port, 
Love bends to earth from orbs of Paradise, 
To draw each quiv'ring human heart to his 
And bear them to his dreamlit bridal skies*. 

In his grave eyes are glassed another world. 
As silver streams reflect the lily moon ; 

And self-dulled ears are dead to alien sounds 
As stilly hours forget the noisy noon. 

Upborne on glit'ring wings to other spheres, 
Faint, far-off the guardian echoes fall, 

Across the storm and over Eden seas 

To every star of space, that "Love is all." 

53 



Cypress and Rose 



AT LAST 

' I *HE day that thou wast born, 
A home was made for thee,- 
Thou mayst not reach it soon, 

Yet waiting it will be. 
Beneath the green sea waves, 

Or 'neath the placid lake, 
The builder of this house 

His narrow space may take. 
On burning desert sands. 

Far, far from all mankind, 
Or 'neath the polar sky. 

This home thou yet shall find. 

And tho' long years may glide 

Into eternity. 
Before thou canst perceive 



54 



Cypress and Rose 

This home where e'er it be, 
Tho' thou mayst look with dread 

Upon its yawning door, 
Or gladly welcome it. 

As some one gone before, — 
No welcome face is there, 

No kindly hand to greet, — 
In solitude profound, 

This home you silent meet. 

As tho' thy strength were spent, 

With long-drawn weary sigh. 
Thou sinkest down to sleep, 

And evermore shall lie ; 
The door securely closed. 

Each window shut and barred. 
Safe from all intruders 

As tho' thou hadst a guard ; 
On, on, from year to year, 

By chance to never roam, 

Unconscious of the world, 

Thou dwellest there alone. 

55 



Cypress and Rose 



POND LILIES 

AXT'ITH golden hearts half hid 'neath creamy white, 
On stilly waters of the lake they lie 
Thro' all the day; 
But when unfurl the olive vans of Night, 
They close beneath the vapor-braided sky. 
And dream of day ; 

So tho' thy thoughts, while yet the sun may shine. 
Shall circle sternest orbs of Life, nor pause 
To think of me ; 
Yet when thy heart doth rest beneath the line 
Of sleep, as unseen hand the lily draws — 
Ah, dream of me ! 



56 



Cypress and Rose 



THE CUP OF HATE 

/^NCE, when the moon in winding sheets of white 

Was sinking, far across a ghostly sea> 
When darkness hid the phantoms weeping blood, 

"Tell me," thou said'st, "how great thy love for me?" 
All dark and darker grew the sleeping world, 

And darker still the shadows at our side, 
While moaned the sea to unresponsive shores. 
As one who speaks in sleep my lips replied — 
"Some measure love by life, 
By time unending or the boundless sky, 

But I — I love thee so 
That I could'st still thy heart if love should die." 

57 



Cypress and Rose 

Words, fatal words, that shaped the pangs of Hell, 
Doubts, wretched doubts, thy love needs lull to rest- 
Not all the world we thought could part us then, 

Or turn to truth what was an idle jest. 
Now, in thy grave, and I of earth despised, 

Know well the hidden meaning — you and I — 
Veiled in the darkness and the moaning sea, 
And in the words I spoke, and knew not why : 
"Some measure love by life, 
By time unending or the boundless sky, 

But I — I love thee so 
That I could'st still thy heart if love should die." 



58 



Cypress and Rose 



NOVEMBER RAIN 

\\/^ITH ceaseless step upon the darkened sill, 
With ghostly finger-tap on misty pane, 
The rain-witch entrance begs to warmth and light. 
To melt away beneath the mournful rain — 
The long, low, whisp'ring rain. 

At dim star-palaces of Happiness, 

The human heart is pleading thro' the years. 
For faintest recognition from within. 

To melt away beneath the falling tears — 
The soft, despairing tears. 



59 



Cypress and Rose 



THE NUN 

Th^ASTING and faint she lies on cold cell stones 

Thro' olive dusk of ghostly fading hours ; 
From summits of her soul her spirit cries 
To Christ, yet from the valleys of her heart 
Her lover's voice she hears above her own. 
Half choked in drifts of yellow water-smoke, 
The red moon creeps from 'neath the under world. 
And paints Titanic shapes on convent walls. 
That lift their sightless eyes and monstrous shafts 
'Gainst unseen foes of night, to melt away 
As broken spirits waste across the air. 
The night deepens ; a star that eastward sprang 

60 



Cypress and Rose 

Is lost in silver paths of flight the moon 
Hath wove ; the heavy-folded rose is rocked 
In dreams ; the wind hath sighed itself to sleep. 
Soft cradled on the lily's fragrant breast ; 
Ah! when shall slumber seal her eyes? 

O Soul ! 
Take wings and scale the sun-steep'd heights thy heart 
Would reach, yet stay and know the with'ring might 
Of that same sun ! O feet with manacles 
Thy will hath wrought, but linger here and tread 
Yon molten rocks, and ragged thorns, thine eyes 
Discerned not from below ! and looking back 
To thy gray life and apathetic end, 
Know ye the cross thy tears have wet, thy heart 
Hath sunk beneath, are mimic emblems there 
Of all the pain that Love must suffer here. 
And when athwart thy dreams come back the hours 
In which thy soul still seeks to soar above 
Thy heart, yet find'st naught but empty sky ; 
The hours that carr}^ thee so far from earth, 

61 



Cypress and Rose 

And leave thee faint at Heaven's phantom door, 
Where as some lost and storm-tost bird that breasts 
The rocks to find its rest, thou beat'st thy wings 
In vain — Ah ! when those hours come back to thee, 
Ask of thyself, thy mufifled life, where thou 
Would'st rather dwell. 



Uncoffined and unknelled 
The Virgin Moon hath sunk to open grave 
Adown the skies ; from out the distant gloom 
A breeze begins to move the cypress leaves, 
And radiate the still perfume of hearts 
That dream within the flowers, or lightly stirs 
The veil of sleep — dusk veil so feebly strung 
Twixt death and that which those who life call life. 
Thro' narrow latticed window shines the star — 
The star of Love, the moon hath lately hid, 
And with its golden finger gilds each bar 
That falls aslant her breast in bands of black 
And bars of opal light, and softly rests 
62 



Cypress and Rose 

A holy hand above the fair yoiingr head 
Unpillowed save the cross ; and all the rest 
Lost in the sfloom and silence of the cell. 



63 



Cypress a fid Rose 



FOR SAYNTE VALENTYNE, HIS DAYE 

PPLYE, little sheete of paper, 
& tel her yt I tliinke 

Iff quills were dipt in honie 

Tnsteade of ys colde inke ; 

Ifif vellum tinged withe roses, 

From out ye olden age, 

Were mine to write my love on, 

Inn place of ys white page ; 

Iff some one had dyscovered 

A system new of signs, 

To pycture forth my hearte withe, 

Insteade of formall lines. 

My love would surely see 
How deare she is to me 1 



64 



Cypress and Rose 



Yett, since these things cannott be, 
I will not keepe thee here, 
But sende thee poor & plainlie 
To one I love most deare. 
Haste little leafe & tel her. 
Ye thoughts I write on you. 
While twixt ye lines doth linger. 
Those words we never knew ! 
My hearte enduring parchment 
Where she unconscious wrote, 
Goe tel her ys & more too, 
With low & gentle note — 
Goe tel ye secrett line 
Aly love's her Valentyne ! 



iB 



Cypress and Rose 



THE HONEYMOON 

/^'ER dimpled crests with rose-tip't breasts, 

A fairy bark is skimming 

With the breeze ; 

In other spheres are doubts and fears, 

For fires of love are rimming 

All the seas. 

No pilot steers, no rocks are feared. 
And rainbow tints are gliding 
Into one ; 
While from afar the nodding star, 
Behind the clouds is hiding 
With the sun. 



66 



Cypress and Rose 



The rudest waves the craft must brave 
Are sapphire ripples dying 
O'er the deep ; 
The whisp'ring wind no art can bind, 
For it is Cupid sighing 
In his sleep. 

On the sea a golden hue, 
In the sky a summer blue, 
While is mirrored back the strain, 
Love is lord of all domains. 

Brightly dark and darkly pure, 
Love the fading lands obscure, 
While is echoed this refrain, 
Love is lord of all domains. 

In the heart there is a pearl 
Stamped upon the happy world. 
Paradise retells the strain, 
Love is lord of all domains. 



67 



Cypress and Rose 

The silken sail can never fail, 

As thro' the mists they're speeding 
In a dream ; 
And cold the heart that hints a dart, 
Or calls unto their heeding 
Em'rald gleam. 

O lovelit hours, the heart empowers 
To throw its haunting beauty 
Over all ; 
To clothe in gold the new and old, 
That ne'er the thoughts of duty 
E'er recall. 

Enchanted days, yet as they gaze, 

The outside world is calling 

All too soon; 

Tho' Love remains the sweetest gain, 

It brings no more enthralling 

Honeymoons. 



68 



Cypress and Rose 



SERENADE 

J^ HE lilies chant upon the water's breast 
A litany the waves but understand. 
While o'er each yellow heart the stars keep watch — 
L'nending watch from out a shoreless land. 

Now hath the Earth, with sweet alarm, began 
To yield her beauty to the Night's embrace. 

While high above their nuptial bed the moon 
Hangs out her lamp to bless their resting place. 

Thou art the lily on my heart's full tide, 
And Love the star that watches over thee ; 

Ah ! haste the hour when as the Earth thou shalt 
Yield all thy beauty and thyself to me. 

69 



Cypress and Rose 



FORGETFULNESS. 

VX/'HERE the breathless echoes falter, 

Where the sun forgets to rise, 
Far across a misty chasm, 

Never bridged by human eyes ; 
Beyond the utmost flights of Hope, 

O'er the frozen seas of Dread, 
Where dull forebodings ever sleep, 
In the charnels of the dead — 

Broods Forgetfulness. 

Under the arch of Destiny, 
Dusky vapors fold and swim. 

Where cloud-dipt echoes ever chant — 
All he knew forgetteth him. 

While ever o'er the vanquished past, 



70 



Cypress and Rose 

And across the broken bond, 
An unseen hand in silence waves 
The dull mysterious wand 
Of Forgetfulness. 

Some Lethe's draught that Heaven brews, 

Naked essence floating free. 
The parched lips of Life may drain, 

As it hears the dread decree. 
Tho' no dull enchantment lingers — 

Glimpses of forgotten dreams, 
The dim funereal tapers 

May be Eden's distant gleams 

Beyond Forgetfulness. 



71 



Cypress and Rose 



THE SONG OF THE SHELL 
I 

T tNNUMBERED miles from shore, I hold a shell 

That ceaseless music makes, as if the sound 
Of Summer-tides had endless echoes left 
Within. 

That song the distant waves once taught 
Can never be forgotten, or unsung ; 

And if, methinks, the shell should shattered lie, 
Each part would whisper still, tho' brokenly, 
Of its far home — the sea. 

Within my heart. 
Sweet maid, there is a dearer song than this, 
Learned long ago of thee, and tho' the way 
Between us seems impassable and fixed, 
It hath no end, but chanteth on and on. 
Of its far love as this lost shell the sea. 
72 



Cypress and Rose 



THE SONG OF THE SHELL 
II 

T TNNUMBERED miles from shore a shell I found 

That ceaseless music made, as if the sound 
Of Summer-tides had endless echoes wrought 
Within. That song the distant waves once taught 
Can never be forgot, and if the shell 
Should shattered lie, each part, methinks, would tell, 
Tho' brokenly, of its far home — the sea. 
Beloved ! there is a dearer song to me 
Than aught the shell may know. A song my heart 
Once learned of you ; and, tho' all far apart 
Our way, it chanteth on and on of thee, 
As this lost shell low singeth of the sea. 



73 



THE QUEST 



THE QUEST 

9 '^T EATH ashen skies that were the temple's roof, 
On altar steps that were the hueless ground, 
A Hindoo mother knelt before her priest — 
A prostrate form of supplicating woe. 
No perfumed altar-flame o'erspread the dark. 
No shrine of fretted gems had called her there. 
Yet sought the mother's heart a precious boon 
That marble mosques and vaulted domes of gold 
Could never give. 

Her voice plead not for wealth 

Or power, nor for an errant husband's love. 

But for the little one's departed life, 

77 



Cypress and Rose 

Who lay as cold and still upon her breast 
As frozen bud upon a midnight stream. 
The very leaves o'erhead grev/ mute with grief, 
The wind struck minor chords on phantom harps 
And swayed the scarlet poppies near, until 
With bended heads they shed upon the earth 
The tears that heaven had but wept o'er them. 
Yet to the wild appeal the silent priest 
Opposed no words of comfort or relief, 
But motionless as graven idol stood, 
With eyes that sought the dim horizon line. 
As if in that pale band that linked a world 
Of day and night, he fain would read and learn 
The secret of that other dusky band 
Of Death, that linked the worlds of light and dark. 
An instant's pause, and then a flower he plucked, 
A single poppy bloom from em'rald stem, 
And held it in his hand, as tho' within 
Its vermeil heart were answers to her cries — 
The universal cry that ne'er can cease, 
For lips that utter it and silent grow, 
78 



Cypress and Rose 



In that same silence bid another mourn. 
"Take thou this flower." he said in tones that bade 
The heart still hope, yet pierced the soul with dread, 
"Seek where thou wilt, in this or lands that know 
Thee not, and when thou canst but bring a flower 
Like this to me, that bloomed within the home 
Where death has never come, I then wilt do 
A lesser deed than thou and give thee back 
Thv child." 



Up rose the mother ; had a voice 
From Heaven whispered she should have her child 
Again, a sweeter hope, a deeper joy 
Could not have filled her heart. The dusky face 
So lately drawn with pain, grew beautiful. 
And blessings fell from trembling, swollen lips ; 
Yet he who bade her hope now answered, "Nay ! 
But stay thy words till thy dear wish be thine. 
And leave thy child with me ; yet, when thou hast 
The poppy bloom thou seekest for, thy child 

79 



Cypress and Rose 

I give to thee again, but light will be 
Within his eyes, and warmth within his heart, 
And 'Mother' on his lips." 



Then with the flower 
Above her heart the mother stole away, 
As one who treads a darkened path, yet sees 
But just beyond, the gates of Paradise 
Swing wide for her. The starlight dim revealed 
A hundred citadels and minarets. 
And scores of masts that flickered on the bay, 
Yet she would not have changed her new-born hope 
For all their gems or bales of priceless goods. 
She almost felt the clasp of tender arms 
About her neck, the baby's gentle breath 
Upon her cheek. O that the morn were here ! 
That she her search of love might then begin ! 
Nor long, nor far must she needs look, for homes 
Of pariah and salim smiled alike 
With drowsy poppy flowers. 
80 



Cypress and Rose 

And when the sun 
Far-furrowing in light the eastern sky 
Had gilded dewey-tasseled woods and fields 
In liquid gold, the mother went her way. 
On, on, nor dared at first the simple quest 
To make, then paused, and asked a single bloom ; 
'Twas her's — but stay! "Has death e'er came to thee 
Or thine?" Death ! death ! ay, death had come to them 
Nor scarce a year since one most dear had died. 
Then on the mother passed, yet by the road 
She dropped the crimson flower they had but gave. 
And ev'rywhere the same ; the blood-red sun 
Of morning hours, crept higher in the skies ; 
His golden lips that breathed of naught but Love, 
Now shaped another word and that was Pain, 
And shriv'ling as he sped adown the day 
They murmured Death, and still she only held 
The flower the priest had gave. 

The gay had sighed 
In answer to her eager questionings, 

SI 



Cypress and Rose 

And pointed afar off with trembling hand, 
To where a loved one slept the years away. 
Or yet again, some one of saddened mein 
Had led her to the darkened room of death, 
Or showed some trifling thing of little worth 
Perchance, or grand, but all that now remained 
Of one who once had lived, and loved, and died. 
And now the lonely night had come again ; 
With heart oppressed, with weary limbs and weak- 
She sank beside the road. The first bright bloom 
Of hope was gone, as when upon the grape 
The tender bloom impalpable is brushed 
By careless hands away, to come no more, 
The bloom gone, but the rich, dark fruit still there. 
For hope was yet her own. 



The night bird's call 
Across the citron trees, ne'er seemed so sad, 
So strange, unto her list'ning heart, as now. 
As tho' it were a wounded soul that cried, 
82 



Cypress and Rose 

Its helpless cry, athwart the gloom of death. 
Ah! death was such a common thing! Mayhap 
She yet must look for days before her child 
Would sleep upon her breast, and thinking thus 
She sank to troubled dreams. 



Soft blew the winds 
With muffled sighs above the lonely heart, 
And cypress trees that stood their solemn guard 
Re-echoed but a sigh. 



A score, and yet 
A score of mornings, breathed their crimson breath 
Across her brow, and broader grew to noon, 
That burned itself away to tropic night; 
Star after star swam thro' the evening deeps, 
To melt away before advancing day. 
And still she wandered on. But now the flower 
That once outrivaled sunset's ruddy hour, 
And dripped the sweetened dew, had drooped and paled, 

83 



Cypf'ess and Rose 

Till ashen-gray replaced its vivid hue — 
Fit emblem of the dying- hope that urged 
Her on. 



And yet despair that once was her's 
Was fading with the hope, for she had seen 
A thousand homes as desolate as hers, 
And pausing but to ask a poppy bloom. 
Had entered in and soothed a broken heart ; 
And lulling grief that stretched a million arms 
From ev'ry side, she half forgot her own, 
"Till once again she stood before the priest ; 
The sunlight wove a gossamer of gold 
About the wasted form, and softly touched, 
With angel tenderness, the empty hands. 
Save but a withered bloom, so gray, so parched. 
One might not guess its name. 

Again she knelt. 
And at his feet she laid the withered flower, 
x^s one who says "Farwell," yet welcomes Peace 
84 



Cypress and Rose 

With that same breath that bade adieu to Hope ; 

While tones so low 'twere as a spirit voice, 

That trembled from an altar in the skies, 

Breathed soft above the chastened heart : "Thy loss 

Is loss for but an hour, nor in that hour 

It shall be wholly loss to thee, for thou 

Hast learned thy sighs were as a passing' breath, 

That for a moment swells eternal storms, 

Thy tears were as a drop on shoreless seas. 

And thy heart stricken dumb with agony 

Were as a glim'ring light that fades among 

The illim'table worlds that shine above." 

Once more the priest is silent, once again 
His eyes have sought the far horizon line, 
But now it is a golden band of light. 
That, keeping ere its secret, still had gave 
A golden lesson to a human heart. 



85 



Cypress and Rose 



SONG 

'^TOW drift the lilies on the languid lake, 

And marble fountains murmur low of thee; 
The dusky palms are nodding in their sleep ; 
Waken the Pleiads ; waken thou with me. 

Now dreams the Earth 'neath passion-weighed lids, 
Of her tempestuous lover in the sky ; 

Now faint and sweet the Summer night-winds call, 
And Paradise is whispered in a sigh. 

Now streams the opal light in cypress walks, 
And bids the agate-footed shadows flee; 

Now all the world lies on the breast of Night, 
And all my heart lies open unto thee. 

86 



SONGS OF THE SEASONS 



MY LADY 

TV/TY LADY frowns — and a crescent of eclipse, 
Falls upon the brow and lips, 

And dims the happy skies ; 
While the mountains weave a mesh of tearful pearls, 
Throw it far across the world 

And breathe their grief in sighs. 

My lady smiles — and the heart of purple hills, 
Beat beneath the loosened rills 
In dim delicious lands ; 
While lavish lights and floating emerald shades 
Paint the gray-clad oaken glades 
In trailing, fickle bands. 

89 



Cypress and Rose 

My lady scolds — and shrill trebles palpitate 
Where the gusty breezes wait 

And ruffs the robin's wing. 
My lady's name? — swells the cuckoo's viewless flute, 
While the blue-bird's reed-like lute 
Re-echoes, "It is Spring.'' 



90 



Cypress and Rose 



I KNEW 

VITHEN gray-eyed Hesper early called the day, 

And marble arms had claspt the land and sea, 
When pearly foes obstructed all the way — 
I asked my heart if thou remembered me. 

When in my dreams thy rosy finger-tips 

Have drawn my whole heart backward unto thee, 

Have held me close to thine impassioned lips — 
I mutely asked when thou would'st come to me. 

When curlews dipt their wings in loosened wave, 

And swallow-flights were lost in heaven's sea; 

When pink acacias sweetest perfume gave — 

I knew that thou wer't coming then to me. 

9J 



Cypress and Rose 

When tulips kis't the slumber-laden hours, 

And March-winds sighed across the dawn for thee ; 

When budded peaks were lost in rose-lit showers — 
I knew that thou wer't coming- then to me. 

When ruby plumelets hid the almond trees, 

And twinkling em'ralds gemmed the drowsy lea : 

When daisies notched with gold the tender breeze — 
I knew that thou wer't coming then to me. 

At eve when flushed thy cheek with Love's own hue, 

And oleanders set their spices free ; 
When fountains flung their diamond drifts anew — 

I knew that thou had'st not forgotten me. 

When golden lights were drawn across the sky. 
And rose-carnations fed the humming-bee ; 

When darkling brooks were bubbling softly by — 
I knew the Summer-time had come to me. 



92 



Cypt'ess a fid Rose 



FAREWELL 

A SPIRIT haunts the crimsoned glade, 
And weaves a veil of pansy shade, 
Above the russet trees ; 
A gold enchantment steeps the land. 
The far-off sails are faintly fan'd 

By warm, voluptuous seas. 

The deep moon-colored beech complains 
As dappled clouds dissolve the rains 

That kiss her overbold ; 
But stormy cohorts quickly fly 
Far away to an alien sky. 

And dip their wings in gold. 

93 



Cypress and Rose 

The air is filled with wings for flight; 
A softened gray o'erspreads the light 

Where reedy currents flow. 
The drowsy aster sheds its bloom 
Athwart the purple blossomed gloom, 

And fair scenes fainter grow. 

Sweeter than rose-red lips of June, 
O changing hours ! why go so soon, 

And all this dream dispel? 
But ringing to a slow-set bell 
The dying Autumn's answer fell — 

Farewell — farewell — farewell. 



94 



Cypress ana Rose 



THE END 

:ehold 

How short the line, 

Tho' linked with crimson gold, 

That measured out the Summer-time ! 
The dewy North scarce whispered to the gracious skies, 
Ere darkened all the way, and death was in her eyes. 

Alas ! 

The flame-winged days, 

They come and slide and pass. 

In endless succession of Mays ! 

Nor silent meteors that die in yonder sky. 

Find graves so infinite as time that passes by. 

<)5 



Cypress and Rose 

How soon 
The new-born year 

Attains the full-aged noon, 
Whose light slants o'er a whitened bier! 
Nor scarce have we begun to live — to apprehend, 
Ere it is Winter-time, ere yet it is the End. 



96 



YOU AND I 



YOU AND I. 

T 'LL sing you a song, my love, 

Only a Winter's song, 
Yet all about the Summer-time, 

When the days were long. 
All about the Summer-time 

We thought could never die. 
When we walked beneath the maples- 
You and I. 

I'll sing it so sweet, my love, 

Tho' it is dark and cold, 
You will think of the pleasant hour, 

And the roses' fold. 

L. or U. 



99 



Cypress and Rose 

You will think of scent and song, 

And of the morning's sky, 
When we walked beneath the maples — 
You and I. 

I'll sing it so sad, my love, 

Amid the Winter's hue, 
You'll think my poor heart's full of pain, 

When it's only true. 
True to the sunny Summer days. 

The roses and the sky, 
When we walked beneath the maples — 
You and I. 



)00 



UNWRITTEN 



UNWRITTEN 

As some far sight beyond the eyes, 
No pen details or artist's note. 
Approaching but to melt mist-like — 
The song he never wrote. 

Or yet a bird of swiftest flight, 
That knew no rest by land or boat. 
But hovering low with broken wing — 
The song he never wrote. 

A jeweled harp that useless lay. 
With chords no human hand had smote. 
That whispered to the whispering winds 
The sons: he never wrote. 



103 



Cypress and Rose 

But once in half-awakened dreams 
The land drew nigh he loved so well, 
The bird flew by on mended wing, 
The harp awoke with joyous swell. 

O, pulse of life and death outlived ! 
O bliss and joy that caught the note ! 
For now he sang with quivering voice 
The song he never wrote ! 

A song that knew not earthly rules, 
That rose and fell in heavenly bars, 
Whose sweetness touched the human heart, 
Whose echoes swept the stars ; 

The end so bright no heart need hope, 
And O how near tho' named remote ! 
All this and more he told within 
The song he never wrote. 
t04 



Cypress and Rose 

One night he died, and at his tomb, 
Friends weeping said with shaken breath, 
"Dear God ! the songs he sang for us 
Can know no grave — no death !" 

But one out-lingered all the rest, 
Whose love up-swelled from heart and throat, 
And to the gloom he sighed, "Alas! 
The songs he never wrote !" 

Each shackle broken — free at last. 

Now Love and Hate had lost their name, 

Regret a story — Hope out-run, 

And Sorrow gone on wings of flame. 

The soul the same, yet not the same, 
Low whispered to the glowing skies, 
"O, once I thought to sing on earth 
The songs of Paradise!" 

105 



Cypress and Rose 

O, ecstacy ! eternal — sweet ! 
The stars rang out to farthest mote- 
At last he sings before his God 
The song he never wrote. 



)M 



HELOISE 



Cypress and Rose 



HELOISE 

npHE evening voices faintly hum, 
As if the organist in some 

Cathedral vast, on minor key, 
Filled dim-lit space with holy theme, 
So low, so sweet, 'twere Heaven's dream 

Made radiant with thoughts of thee. 

The dew-drops on the petals shake, 
And trembling deeper down, they make 

Within the lilies' heart a sea ; 
And looking there I fondly trace 
The reflex of a phantom face, 

That midnight whispers name as thee. 

109 



Cypress and Rose 

Voluptuous winds, as sweet as lies 
The darkness on the weary eyes. 

Blow inland from the sleeping sea ; 
With musk of roses on their lips, 
Sabaean spice that lightly drips, 

They pause and give thy name to me. 



Within the heart are spirits twain, 
The one is Love, the other Pain, 

And both are whisp'ring, dear, of thee. 
Sweets of the night, like palms of prayer. 
All sacred touch her brow and hair, 

And say my heart doth follow thee. 



no 



O DOUBTING HEART 



Cypress and Rose 



O DOUBTING HEART 

AX^HY must the roses die? Scattered they lie 
On the cold earth unmindful of our sighs. 
O doubting heart! 
Soon the snow-white curtains of sleep 
Will be lost in the loosened deep, 
And the heart of the roses leap 
To waft their spices to the summer skies. 

Where have the blue-birds flown ? Freezing and blown 
Perchance across some dark and rock-ribbed shore. 
O doubting heart! 
Far away in a sun-clasped land 



Cypress and Rose 

Where the magnoHa's heart is fanned 
By winds from o'er the mellow sand, 
They only wait to come to thee once more. 

The day is dead, and light is drowned in night. 
And shoreless is the ocean of Despair. 
O doubting heart ! 
These hueless clouds the sun will rent. 
For Nature's crimson tide hath sent 
The pulse of Hope thro' discontent, 
And morning carolings awake the air. 



n4 



love's league 



LOVE'S LEAGUE 

■p\REAMING fancies held me captive, 

Binding fast with unseen hands, 
Misty visions hovered near me. 
Breathing low of other lands ; 
When gentle tappings at my door, 

Roused my heart and bid me rise. 
Still some hidden power controlled me. 
Held me there with magic ties. 

On mellow waves of sound were borne, 
A voice of silvery tone, 



Cypress and Rose 

Begging for a speedy entrance, 
Pleading that he was alone. 

Ah ! well I knew 'twas Love that spoke- 
A sense of triumph thrilled me, 

"Oh, Cupid ! thou at last should learn 
That I can live without thee." 



At my answer voice and rapping 

As by magic died away. 
Then I fancied I had vanquished. 

And was victor of the day, 
When on the window pane I heard 

The sound of fluttering wing, 
And in tones so sweetly whispered, 

"Happiness to thee I bring." 

"Dolores form in fairest guise! 

How oft I bid thee turn away, 
Yet still thy stifled cry I hear. 

Thro' Winter's cold and Summer's stay. 
U8 



Cypress and Rose 



Will coming- years dispel thy power? 

Or Death alone destroy thine art? 
Howe'er it be, record this vow. 

My will shall master yet my heart." 



With puzzled look and saddened mein 

In silence Cupid left me. 
But burning heart in anguish felt 

This parting had bereft me. 
Yet once again without the door 

A moaning voice beseeched me, 
"I am humbled, bruised and banished. 

For love has never reached thee. 



"In pity open wide thy door. 

One brief moment let me rest, 
When you bid me I will vanish. 

And shall leave thee not unblessed." 

119 



Cypress and Rose 

Cautiously the door I opened, 
In flew Love with gleeful shout ; 

Leagued with Pity he had won me, 
And I ne'er could turn him out. 



130 



DECEMBER 



DECEMBER 

"^TIGHTWINDS trail from mountain peaks, 
Cushioned pavement hoarsely creaks 
Beneath the feet of passers by; 
Smiles the fire with ruby lips, 
While the moments mutely slip. 

Far up the stairway of the sky ; 
The light burns low, 
The clock ticks slow, 
The old year wavers — softly goes 
With December. 



)23 



THE GOAL IS BUT A 
LITTLE WAY 



Cypress and Rose 



THE GOAL IS BUT A LITTLE WAY 

np HE wind and waves the rack before them sweeping-. 
But pause at last as weary warriors sleeping. 
Beneath eternal eyes of peace and rest ; 
Yet Youth and Heart athwart existence ranging. 
In quest of Hope's star-palaces unchanging. 

Flit'st ever on while we repeat the jest — 
The Goal is but a little way. 

The bugle-call of Power its challenge sending. 

As shriek of the storm-king when black skies rending, 

Blows reveille on dusty fields of care : 
As Glory from her height our hopes beguiling, 

127 



Cypress and Rose 

Doth hide defeat behind a mask that's smiling, 

And points to where beyond the battle's glare — 
The Goal is but a little way. 

Tho' Fame's shrill blast and Love's fond breath are still, 
We onward urge the sick, despairing will, 

So lonely now the shaded way hath grew ; 
And struggling in the quicksands of our death 
We bid farewell and say with fading breath, 

Not here — alas ! — my heart doth tell me true — 
The Goal is but a little way. 



m 



DON PANCHO 



•Thero never yet was human power 
Which could evade, if unforgiven. 
The patient search and vigil long* 
or him who treasures up a wrong." 



PART ONE 



DON PANCHO 
A Spanish Tale 



\\7 HEN Moorish palaces of Cadiz g-leamed, 
In all the glory of their far-ofif prime — 
When white-faced turrets on the city walls, 
Still sig"ned the sails across the sea to come, 
There dwelt but just beyond its battled towers 
A scion of an ancient house of Spain, 
Whose entrance at the Plaza de Lorine 
Was signal for a thousand cheeks to burn, 
For maiden eyes to droop, or glance beyond 



}35 



Cypress and Rose 

The bloody fight that called them there ; a man 

Whose presence rare in darkened vestibule. 

Or dim cathedral aisle, but boded ill 

To some fair devotee the fane within — 

From whom the priest his waterbrush withdrew 

As from a fiend ; a chieftain self-exiled, 

Whose heart was fearless as 'twas false, that drew- 

As steel the lightnings draw — the smothered curse 

Of Weakness, and the open hate of Power. 

No empty heritage his titled name, 

For scores of ships that lay within the bay 

Or traversed dim-marked ocean roads, were his ; 

And olive groves and valley vineyards paid 

An endless tribute to his hated name, 
iU 



Cypress and Rose 

While distant on the shore but scarce a mile 
From Cadiz, glowed the marble collonades, 
And silvered domes that marked his palace home — 
A home across whose gates some hand had traced 
In blood that would not pale — that all might read : 
''^Who enters here their honor leaves behind!*^ 

Within these gates the fountains clove the air 

With mellow monotones, thro' all the year, 

And myriad blooms that smiled, yet smiling sighed, 

Thro' sultry noon, ere hung their heads with grief 

And wept a thousand tears when night bent low 

Above the hideous revels of their lord. 

'Twas here he idled thro' the noontide hour. 

Or basked beneath the awnings in the court ; 

137 



Cypress and Rose 

'Twas here a thousand tapers flashed afar 
Athwart the midnight gloom, on strains upborne 
Of Bachanalian song and barb'rous dance ; 
'Twas here the morning sun the end beheld 
Of orgies, such as ne'er the dawn had lit 
Since with his debauchees Comodus hailed 
The coming day. 

With sin to science raised, 

And Vice with rhuemy eyes and canc'rous tongue 

The only power his wayward heart would own, 

Don Pancho lived a life apart from man, 

Yet never more alone than in the midst 

Of guilty revelries and feasts profane. 

As some lost star that vainly tries to light 
)38 



Cypress and Rose 

An endless universe of ashen gloom 

Above, beneath, Don Lara's voice alone 

Was raised against the multitude that held 

Don Pancho as an outcast in their midst. 

A thousand times had Cadiz questioned "Why?" 

For Lara was a blameless man in all 

Save strangest friendship for the libertine ; 

And some there were that deemed the bony hand 

Of Debt ere bound him to allegiance base, 

Or yet again that Pancho exercised 

Some fatal fascination o'er his friend — 

Some evil power uncanny as 'twas strong — 

That held him to his side, unwilling slave. 

The rising sun with crimson lips absorbed 

The dew-drenched dusk, and climbed the wind-swept stairs 

J39 



Cypress and Rose 

Of Heaven, that ere led to night beyond ; 

Upon her azure couch, twixt stilly earth 

And trembling stars beyond, the moon awoke 

In turn to pale before advancing day ; 

As pulsing rainbow o'er some chosen land 

The Summer glowed and vanished in the air 

To bend again its colored arch across 

The earth, but subtle cause that linked these two. 

Knew not the changes all the world must know. 

As tho' it were a thing of other worlds — 

To live in darkness and to end in gloom. 

Till Cadiz ceased to wonder or to care, 

Nor were surprised when 'twas announced thro' Spain 

That Pancho was to wed Don Lara's child — 
}40 



Cypress and Rose 

The young and lovely Donna Isabella: 
Nor Pancho need implore the father's will 
To bend the daughter's fancy to his own, 
For it was whispered in the marble courts 
On either side the Calle Ancha's pave, 
And on the Alameda's shaded walks — 
"She loves her father's friend." 

, If e'en at first 

Don Pancho pledged his troth unmarred by plot 

Of shame, none other tongue than his could tell. 

Yet ere the roses paled and fell to earth 

That listened to avowal of his love, 

A change crept o'er him, as the darkness creeps 

Across the day ; and as some priest of Night. 

HI 



Cypress and Rose 

Of dark Despair — that knew no morn, no hope — 
He led his victim to the sacrifice, 
And whispered on the altar steps that Hell 
Was Paradise. 

Yet Love survived the death 
Of Innocence, that in its weakness knew 
No will, no voice with power to wound or soothe. 
Or hand, tho" but a traitor's, that could lead 
Save his, and ere the gossips yet had breathed 
Of ruin, dawned the day that startled all 
With tidings of elopement of the twain. 

Don Lara, overwhelmed 'twixt grief and shame — 

For ne'er before Dishonor's hand had traced 
)42 



Cypress and Rose 

That word Disgrace o'er their historic name — 
Became as one who, living, yet is past 
All mirth or woe ; with mind responding less 
To scorn or praise than frozen wave to winds 
That harshly blow; with heart that, shunning all, 
Yet loathing self the most, and doomed to feel 
An endless tide sweep backward from above. 
Of tears unwept — unseen — undried. 

The voice 

Of Blame, or tongue to sympathy attuned. 

Alike were passed unheeded by, or heard 

As one might hear an echo in a dream. 

Nor yet he sought redress from earthly powers 

For superhuman pangs, for law was vain. 

And kings too weak to give to him again 

143 



Cypress and Rose 

The child of other days. 

All Cadiz sighed 
And breathed betrayer's name to cross their breast, 
As when they syllabled the fiend himself; 
And high and low recalled the fair-faced girl 
As one recalls the dead, to speak the good 
And all the ill forget; yet hearts, tho' mute, 
Ere named Don Lara's friendship for the man — ■ 
Whose name was e'en forbade in virtue's home — 
As fatal stepping-stone o'er which his child 
Had crossed to death. 

And not alone to death 

That yet may feel the crimson stream of life 

Press on below, for scarce a year had fled 

Ere tidings from the distant East confirmed 
144 



Cypress and Rose 

That other death. 

Mayhap the guilty hand 
That led her to the far-off, lonely grave 
Was clasped by dymg hands, and eyes uplooked 
Of deathless love in his, while weak'ning voice 
But breathed liis name with tenderness ; mayhap 
Upon his breast the tides of life went out 
To sea, and to the last the lover's kiss 
Was pressed upon her lips. 

But to her sire 
No word of meagre comfort came, no sign 
By which to read the end, nor voice to speak 
Beyond the silent fact of death. 

Nor mind 

Nor heart might longer then endure, for hours 

145 



Cypress and Rose 

The darkest still were lit by shifting rays 
Of hope that he might clasp his child again, 
And e'en forgiving all forgiveness claim. 
For as some tree the lightnings doubly scathe 
He died. 



The days, forgetting other days, 

Doffed gilded cap of morn for silver shoon 

Of rtight, in turn to mix with retrospect 

That softened lay a thing of other lands : 

Yet braided thro' the days that sped to death — 

As one dark strand amid a band of gold — 

Was gloomy memory of Pancho's sins. 

And Lara's death. 
146 



Cypress and Rose 

Hidalgo, prince and slave 
In undertones alike rehearsed the tale, 
As tho' this double treachery bespoke 
A heart more black than aught of humankind. 
Till with the days that were no more it ceased 
The present mind with past events to bind. 



147 



PART 1 W O 



PART II 

But midst a million souls that half forgot 
Don Pancho and his sins, was gloomy heart 
Of one, from which no time might ere efface 
The impress of his crimes ; one, high among 
The holy order of Franciscan monks, 
Whose sunken eyes beheld seducer's face, 
Tho' closed in prayer the altar shrine before, 
Who heard above the matins of the morn, 
And vesper bells at eve, a sister's wail — 
A father's sigh. 



J5J 



Cypress and Rose 

As worldly hearts might hold 
The image of a love forever lost, 
Of wasted years, or long departed youth, 
The Padre of the Holy Cross retained 
The fatal memory of his ruined home — 
His sister's fall, her death — the father's end. 
When morn was gold, when eve was silver-gray, 
Or night was leaden o'er a sleeping world, 
His prayers arose to far-ofif, silent skies, 
Imploring there the justice long delayed 
On him who mocked the dangers of His wrath. 
"Thou has said, 'Vengeance is mine,' " cried the monk ; 
"O ! then this wretched life of mine prolong 
Till Thy offended majesty above, 
And open graves within this heart below, 
)52 



Cypress and Rose 

Are vindicated by eternal Right! 

And if Thou needest earthly instrument — 

Behold ! Thy servant waits to do Thy will !" 
But months grew into years, and cloister walls 
Were not more mute than Voice he plead to hear, 
And blackened doubts if he was heard by Him 
Began to crush the heart already broke, 
When suddenly as he had disappeared, 
Don Pancho to his native town returned. 

Once more the Moorish palace knew its lord, 

Once more carousals vext the midnight ear, 

While Pancho's name became a brand of shame 

On him, or her, who halted at his gates. 

J53 



Cypress and Rose 

Yet gilded crime that reigned unchecked within 
Had charmed with all the potency of sin 
Those chemic hearts more weak than they were false- 
Had vict'ries gained that armies might not dare — 
Till rumors of his late arrival home, 
His fresh iniquities and triumphs new, 
Had penetrated the Monastic walls 
That bore in white above their sombre doors — 
"The Holy Cross." 

In solemn conclave there — 

A fearful radiance upon his face, 

With hand uplifted to his God, on which 

A sinner at eternal bar above 

Might gazed, and gazing know that he was lost — 
154 



Cypress and Rose 

The Padre to the Brotherhood declared 

The hour had come when Heaven's outraged Host 

Should, thro" the Church, assert their awful might. 

"This man," he said, in tones the list'ning monks 

Half deemed were not of earth, so far removed 

Were they from every hope or fear that stirs 

The living breast; so far away they seemed 

To tremble from the altar-stairs that lead 

Up thro' the darkness to the unseen God — 

"This man, whose heart but mocked divine rebuke, 

Who scoffed at mortal powers to check his sins, 

And smiled at human tears and broken hearts, 

Has reappeared, to link with base intrigues 

His wretched present to his shameful past. 

This moment plots the libertine against 

155 



Cypress and Rose 



The sanctit}^ of home, and all that's pure — 
That's noble, in the hearts of womankind; 
While yet the Law, with eyes upon his rank. 
And hands upon his gold, will silent be. 
But he returns to expiate his sins, 
At last to answer to the Church — to God ! 
For Cadiz's safety, for the good of Spain, 
Don Pancho's ill career must end." 

"The means 

A brother monk in falt'ring tones incjuired — 

"No scandal should there be, nor yet a crime 

Within these walls to mend the crimes without." 

"The holy ofifice of the Church should be 

To vanquish sin, and for her ev'ry act 
{56 



Cypress and Rose 

Unto that end she answers to her God !" 
Replied the priest. 

''But shall the means be death?" 
Asked yet another of the Memberhood. 
"The way — but leave to Heaven and to me. 
Yet they who say me nay, what ere it is. 
Must speak their opposition now!" proclaimed 
The Padre with unaltered voice. 

A pause. 

And then a solemn hush, that no voice brake 

To plead for one whose fate their silence sealed : 

The waxen tapers flared on either side 

The priest, who waited calm, inflexible. 

For one dissenting heart, but all that marred 

157 



Cypress and Rose 

The perfect stillness of the vaulted room 
Were sighing winds, and rustling leaves — without. 
Scarce paled the moon on Pancho's coming home 
Ere yet among his followers 'twas told 
There glowed an unknown star within their skies : 
Nor had this lovely light from other orbs 
Of guilt, across their lurid heavens dawned, 
Ere baleful gleam of hearts as lost as hers 
Were hidden in its flaming radiance, 
As midday sun obscures the stars of night. 
Nor Pancho on her beauty gazed unmoved, 
For lustful eyes her image bore within 
Unto the heart that claimed it for its own ; 
And for a space she was the harlot queen, 
Enthroned on trembling dias of his love — 
}58 



Cypress and Rose 

The brief meteoric flash adown a night 

Of sin, that seemed to mock in triumph's light 

The blackness whence she came, and ebon gloom 

Of coming hours when she no longer pleased. 

A dusky slave with noiseless step, and gaze 

Low bent upon the earth, ere waited near — 

As might some disembodied shadow wait — 

With eyes that seeing, yet saw not ; and ears 

That hearing, never heard but her commands ; 

While bygone favorites reluctant gave 

The praise and homage Pancho had decreed. 

Yet slave and outcast to each one confest 

That something more than wantonness held sway 

Within her breast ; that in her eyes were sparks 

Of hell, that ever seemed to menace him 

J59 



Cypress and Rose 

Who was their lord. But Pancho heard them not, 
For Envy lowly spoke in Bondage ear ; 
Nor yet his dazzled eyes in her percieved 
What others might have seen. 

The rarest stuffs 
From Eastern looms, with seeds of gold inwove, 
The gems, descended thro' a hundred years, 
Were lavished on this idol of the hour : 
While feasts were given in her praise, at which 
A queen in truth might sat and wished for naught- 
Feasts of barbaric splendor, for his hall, 
From column on to column, heavy swung 
The braided garlands of the rose, above 

A thousand miracles of art; above 
160 



Cypress and Rose 

Such wines as e'en might cause resolve to swoon 
In Virtue's breast ; and o'er the harpists hid 
From ev'ry e3'e, who woke to life the heart 
Of wild voluptuous strains; yet overmore 
Than all the rest, the seat of honor left 
For her. 



'Tvvas long past midnight's hour, anear 
The close of an unholy festival — 
Unknown to all a banquet of farewells — 
That Pancho with his fair companion strolled 
Adown the broadly-terraced walks that led 
To garden grots beyond. 

The glare of lights, 

J61 



Cypress and Rose 

The wanton song, the measure of the dance, 
They left behind to other hearts, nor paused 
Until the gilded garden-chairs were gained. 
Above them high the solemn palms were ranged, 
Impris'ning sweets within their drooping plumes 
That heavenward would climb ; the Summer air 
Seemed half a living thing of odorous sighs ; 
Afar off where the citron grove upsprung, 
A nightbird to the darkness sang of life, 
And love, despair and death, and farther still 
The city's stilly sounds, that came and went. 
Seemed but an echo to the viewless song. 
Full long in softest dalliance they sat, 
The dim empurpling dusk revealing lights 
That lowly burnt 'neath passion-weighted lids ; 
162 



Cypress and Rose 

Yet gazing- in her eyes of brightest dark, 
Strange fancies floated thro' Don Pancho's heart. 
She seemed forgetful of the hand that claspt 
Her own — to grow away from him, far, far 
Away, as star in inmost Heaven set 
Seems distant from the earth ; and then again 
To seem so near, each sense lost sharpest edge 
Within a heedless whole, that drifted out, 
Far out, to dim Uncertainty, upon 
The snow-white billows of her breast. 

And once 

He fain would speak, but voice was dim with sighs 

As in a dream, while bending dewy warm 

Above him, lips that kissed were whispering 

163 



Cypt'ess and Rose 

Of all things wild and sweet ; and once he fain 

Would rise, and from his heart and soul dislodge 

This spell — this lethargy down deepening — 

But softest arms detained his steps and drew 

The heavy head upon her bosom bare, 

As mother might have held her drowsy child. 

Faint, fainter, grew each sound, each sight, as when 

On dying eyes and dulling ears the earth 

Is slipping from above, around, beneath, 

Till, with a long-drawn breath of utter rest, 

He slept within her arms. 



Hours afterward 

When Pancho had awoke, it was as one 
164 



Cypress and Rose 



Who in a dream still reassures himself 

'Tis but a dream : for dull sepulchral walls. 

As of a living tomb around, and o'er. 

Dim lit with the imprisoned ray, as of 

A sunbeam lost thro' crevice overhead ; 

1'he black-robed figures round his narrow bed 

Were surely never seen before. And yet 

This picture lingered long u])on the brain. 

Too long, for as the minutes crept away 

He would that Sleep might shift the scene, tho' naught 

He gained save that it were a change. 

Mayhap 

As thus he lay a pris'ner in his dreams, 

A slave, the finger-tip of silence on 

165 



Cypress and Rose 

Her lips, waved plumes above his silent form, 
The air to cool, his slumbers to prolong. 
But curses on her heart more black than she I 
For in his face a worthy slave might read 
He slept but ill — -that he would fain arise ! 
O for a touch from vassal hand so near ! 
Then on the feet of Consciousness he might 
Escape these dungeon walls and breathe once more 
Within his home the air of liberty. 
And yet, O frightful thought ! what if 'twere real " 
What If these heavy walls existence had 
Beyond the throbbing confines of his mind ! 
Then where was he? how came he there? and th( 
Of kindred kind rushed madly thro' his brain, 
As when a turbid stream, long held in check, 
}66 



Cypress and Rose 

Breaks each device to hold Its growing power, 

And wildly rushes onward over all. 

Cold as the stone where on his length was laid. 

Upon his lips an imprecation hoarse, 

He struggled to his feet — a stranger stood 

Within this breathing world, as spirit hurl'd 

From out another life. About him closed 

Those dark, mysterious forms. With icy hand 

As of a statue animate, he clutched 

The long loose robes of one that nearest moved — 

"Speak ! friend or foe ! and tell'st me where I am ! 

Wer't trick of brain diseased ? of nerves o'erworn ? 

Or stay! some jest upon me played for gold?" 

"It is no jest!" said one in accents cold; 

"Don Pancho, thou has hither been conveyed. 

t67 



Cypress and Rose 

Nor yet to plead — for crimes as thine admit 
Df no defense — but all too late to learn 
That Justice lives, tho' Spanish manhood rots 
Within its grave." 

"What tribune do'st propose 
To act before?" 

"The tribune of the Church ! 

When rank and gold too strong contestants prove 

For Cadiz laws — when on the body fair 

Of Spain, unpunished crimes are left to eat 

Their canc'rous way — 'tis time a higher power 

Asserts authority, and brings to doom 

The high-born criminal. Thy favorite 
)68 



Cypress and Rose 

Who lately ruled within thine palace gates 

Was but a person by the Church employed 
To bring thee to the fate that it decreed. 
Last night she drugged thee in thy garden paths, 
And when insensate thou did'st rest within 
Her arms, she beckoned her accomplices — . 
Who waited in thy palm-trees' shade — to come. 
They bore thee to the dilegencia near, 
And thence unto the 'Holy Cross.' 

Nor wilt 

Thy sudden disappearance cause alarm 

Thy wretched followers among, for thine 

Were acts of the ungoverned heart and brain, 

That knew or owned no empire save its will. 

}69 



Cypress and Rose 

And well mig-ht Cadiz deem thou had'st but fled 
With her who slowly — surely led thee here : 
For ne'er again will Spain her face behold 
Thro' all the length or breadth of her domains." 
Don Pancho's face grew white as sickly beam 
That o'er his features play'd, yet haughty lip 
Contemptuous curved, as if in mockery 
Of fate unknown, whate'er that fate might be. 
Unconsciously the slender hand had sought 
His rapier's jeweled hilt. 'Twas gone! The first 
In manhood's time he helpless stood before 
His fellow-man — and all unarmed beyond 
The courage no man's hand could strip him of. 
"This is some priestly jest, I must conclude, 
Or yet more true — some holy stratagem 
J70 



Cypress and Rose 

The coffers of the Church to swell. If 'twere 

A jest, 'tis but a sorry one, and to 

The king the Brotherhood shall vainly plead 

For insult to the noblest of his realm. 

If "tis for gold, then speak my freedom's price, 

Nor hesitate to name the sum thou seek'st, 

Tho' it exceeds thine greed historical 

As this incarceration here excels 

All thine base deeds enacted in the name 

Of God — for I deserve to dearly pay. 

Some noble penance do. for trust reposed 

In her whom inmost Hell would not contain — 

Who were not fit to wash the feet or touch 

The hem of Judas' robe." 



171 



Cypress and Rose 

"O wretched man ! 
I tell thee once again, this is no jest! 
No trick extortionate of any thing 
That thou can'st call thine own," replied the monk. 
"That doubt no more shalt dull thine ear to all 
Which thou hast heard, know thou that I, who in 
These sacred walls am Padre Francois, bore 
Within the world which thou did'st drive me from 
The name of Lara. Look within these eyes 
And ask of me if this is but a jest! 
Hast thou forgot? the living and the dead 
Forbid thy heart forget ! nor can'st thou pay 
Thy debt, while thou and I existence know. 
Nor yet I seek to still thine heartless heart — 
For tho' I saw thee dead, thou still did'st live, 
J72 



Cypress and Rose 

In all thy guilt, a deathless memory — 

But measured be thy life by days or years, 

Thy freedom is a forfeit to the Church — 

To Padre Francois — and to Lara's son. 

Beyond this cell thou shalt not pass alive ! — 

But draw thy breath, which were not life or death, 

Within these solitary dungeon walls. 

For thee, henceforth, there is no earth, nor sky — 

No time, or change — no good, or ill, nor aught 

But one vast sea of stagnant solitude, 

In life without a wave, a sail, a shore, 

In death a grave, engulfing name and hope." 

Then on his knees, with hands upborne above, 

He plead: "O Thou, who never yet did'st turn 

A heedless ear to earth ! let mine be death, 

173 



Cypress and Rose 

Whene'er Thou wilt, but let this man endure 
To know the pangs that other hearts have known- 
To groan beneath the heritage of woe. 
Bequeathed alike by the impartial dead 
To him who ruined and to him who loved. 
Live on ! — yet from his gaze forever veiled 
The sun of Liberty — the star of Hope — 
Till all the wretchedness he wrought — -is his." 



J74 



PART THREE 



PART III 

A score of years had fled since from his home—* 
The second time — Don Pancho disappeared. 
Many a tongue that his departure told, 
Now in its cavern lay, a streak of dust; 
Many an eye that once reflected his. 
Now mouldered 'neath its fleshless canopy — 
Where fev'rish Love, the working brain of Hate, 

177 



Cypress and Rose 

Ambition's wile, and virtue, vice or shame — 
Had failed to leave one trace behind. 

And yet 

There lingered hearts that sometimes thought of him. 

That looking backward to their youth or prime 

Beheld his face, remembered well his name. 

But few were these, and careless was the glance 

To far-ofif years, or aught that they contained; 

For each rehearsed, with secret hope or pain. 
Some trifling part — some joy, or oft'ner still, 

Some woe — the Play of Life entailed. 



But e'en 

The souls engrossed within the world of Self 
J78 



Cypress and Rose 

Had now forgot each narrow good or grief, 
For Spain upon them bent a troubled face, 
Upraised a hand that trembled as it led, 
While wildly beat and yet as wildly paused 
Her helpless heart within. 

A foe more dread 
Than aught without — the rebel foe within — 
Which oft beneath its breath some tryanny 
Of church or king had curst, now bared the sword 
Of lawlessness, of havoc and of death. 
It was the tale, as old as human life. 
Of mankind rising out of weakness, strong, 
To vindicate the magic of a name, 
Be that of freedom, vengeance, or a god. 

179 



Cypress and Rose 

Yet ere the day had dawned on Spain when hearts 
Once more beat softly to the song of Peace. 
Unnumbered lives had slaked some dusty field, 
And e'en the altar was a sacrifice 
To those who owned a guiding hand no more 
In Heaven or on earth. 

Nor battlements 

Of Cadiz could withstand the rebel host, 

For thunder-like along her marble quays 

The foe within the harbor stormed her walls. 

With volumed smoke the day took ashen hues : 

x\t night the bursting shell illumed the sky 

With hissing meteors that melted back — 

A momentary star of earth, and hate : 
}30 



Cypress and Rose 



While silentl}' the stars beamed on above — 
The everlasting stars of space unbound, 
And peace unmarred. 

The towered walls at last 

Laid low, were hidden 'neath the victors' feet, 

Who in the Plaza pitched their leader's tent 

And raised a thousand swords in its defense. 

From thence, as from some dread volcanic mouth, 

A hundred streams of fiery strength poured down 

Upon the town ; nor turned aside for aught 

Of royal lineage, or papal power — 

Yet paused, and on their molten bosoms bore 

The slave, were he the bondsman of the king, 

The Church, or dusky vassal of a Don. 

18} 



Cypress and Rose 

But one unknown they vain would liberate— 
A pris'ner chained within monastic walls — 
Whose outstretched hand and widely-staring eyes 
Seemed pleading e'en in death for bread — for life. 
With refugees from Cadiz there had fled 
A score of monks, and with them vanished care — • 
The jailer's care — of him they had but found. 
The hand of Pity smoothed his whitened locks, 
And Curiosity of each inquired 

His name — from whence — and why they found him there- 
For Mystery across the haggard face 
Some secret lines had traced, that none of earth 
Might read and understand. Yet all confest 
Twere but a proof of papal hate, or yet 
Of royal wrath that shunned the light of day ; 
\Z2 



Cypress and Rose 

That in his breast some tale of woe had died — 

Some untold tale they were too late to hear. 

Thro' empty corridors and chapel aisles 

With tender hands they bore the lifeless form. 

Nor paused but once, and but that once to fire 

The altar steps, the cross above ; then by 

The light of flames that tinged the midnight sky 

They laid him in his grave — unknown^unnamed. 



THE END 



183 



HIS, THEN, IS THE END OF THE BOOK, 
CrPRESS AND ROSE, AS ARRANGED 
y PRINTED FOR MARION FRANCES 
WATT AT THE If^T PRESS, SEATTLE, 
U.S.A., ^ OF WHICH BUT A LIMITED EDITION 
IS HEREWITH ISSUED /? ^ ^ 





DEC 161902 



liiiiiS' 

018 395 55b 1 



